Fighting Death
by Skyclaw
Summary: Voldemort is making Horcruxes. What happens when he makes one? Will he see lights? Will he feel pain? Will his whole life flash through his eyes? Maybe. But Voldemort gets a special visitor. His name is Death. He's here to show Tom Riddle about life.
1. Chapter 1

"Please, my lord!" Bellatrix Lestrange pleaded. "You must take a break!"

The black-robed witch tugged gently at her master, trying to help him up. Voldemort had always pushed her away, but this time, it would be different. He was on the floor.

Yes, Voldemort was on the ground. Gasping for breath. Wand clutched with his long spidery fingers and the other hand holding the handle of an innocent-looking bronze goblet so tightly, his pale knuckles were turning even whiter.

Meanwhile, Nagini lurked in the corner, slowly circling a terrified black mouse.

"Get," Voldemort breathed. "Get away from me!" His wand hand immediately rose of its own accord. A burst of bright red light knocked her to the other side of elaborately decorated room.

She was lucky that it was a Punch Jinx, and not the Killing Curse. That meant that she was still valuable. She shouldn't be killed.

Maybe he even loved her.

Voldemort blinked the lights out of his vision, the entire manor room swaying. The pure white chandelier seemed to crush him and the marble floor looked too far away.

He must remind Lucius to provide a room without distractions.

Leaning against the velvet curtains, he counted the dizziness away.

One, two, three, four.

Some orphanage habits stay on him like flies on a dead body.

Five, six, seven, eight.

By seven, the world seemed stable again. Hating himself for his moment of weakness, he tossed the cup to his servant, already on her feet.

Nagini moved close and closer to the mouse, occasionally tickling it with her tongue.

"Hide that, my dear Bella," he said, as if he didn't curse her a few feet back. "Do whatever you want with it. Just. Don't. Let it be found by Potter. Or Dumbledore." Bellatrix bowed and scooted to the double-doors. "Not yet, fool!"

Bellatrix involuntarilly lifted on eyebrow. "My lord...?"

Breathing out of his nose in exaperation, Voldemort reached inside his robes and tentatively pulled out a locket.

It was beautiful.

And expensive. It was made of gold, and little green emeralds and small serpentine grooves created an elaborate 'S' shape.

Bellatrix's jaw dropped. "Master!"

Voldemort narrowed his eyes. A dangerous sign. "Will you kindly stop referring me as 'lord', 'master', 'sir' or anything of the like?" His voice had an angry, hissing tone to it.

Bellatrix heard none of that. She was still holding the cup to her chest, true to her promise of protecting it with all her heart. "But, sir! That's Salzar Slytherin's locket! It must've cost a fortune! Y-you wouldn't make another…" The word 'Horcrux' was stuck in her throat.

"_Silencio_. Five isn't enough, Bella," he said patiently. "Death is powerful. Immortality…" he paused, searching for the right word. "Is a hard path to take. A path I'm willing to take. Now, will you help me, or do I have to get Malfoy?" The last words were snappish.

Bellatrix nodded so fast, her head was a blur. Slipping the goblet into her magical pouch she pointed her wand at her master. Voldemort placed the locket on the floor and pointed his wand at it.

"Now don't miss this time," he said when Bellatrix's wand started to tremble.

This was a complicated spell. He couldn't mess it up, or he'd die. The opposite of what he's trying to do. He'd made five already, including the cup. After each incantation, the pain became muter. His appearance changed slightly. His skin became paler at the second split. His hair fell around the fourth. Split by split, he had noted that he was turning a bit more snakelike. Now, making Horcruxes were part of his life. They were his life. He was ready.

But Bellatrix didn't think so. "But, my lord! Surely you can take a rest! At least a day… or a week."

Sheesh. Did he look _that_ tired?

"Now." His voice is quiet and deadly.

Better not argue with that.

Nagini now had the mouse in a death grip, squeezing the life out of it. But it wasn't dead yet. She was just playing with her food.

Aiming has never been so hard. Bellatrix was going to put her master in pain. But an order is an order. Taking a deep breath, she timidly breathed out the spell.

"_Vita Haud Nex_."

The pure blue ray that emitted from the tip of her wand was so powerful, her wand jerked up a bit.

And it hit Voldemort.

Nagini lunged at her mouse.

There was a silent sceam. You could feel it in the room, like there was a blood-curdling scream in the air, but everything was totally muted.

It was a weird sensation. Voldemort had his mouth opened. It was as if he was in a silencing spell.

Voldemort could see lights beneath his eyelids. It grew brighter and brighter, until it looked like he was standing in a white room. He frowned. He never had to do this before in a Horcrux incantation. Usually, it was just lights, him passing out, pain, and waking up.

What in the name of Merlin's shaggy beard?

Suddenly, shadows appeared in his vision. Then details. He wasn't in the Malfoy Manor anymore. He was standing in a simple bedroom, with wooden walls. The locket was nowhere to be seen. There was a dark wooden closet in a corner, and his bare feet can feel the comfortable blue rug underneath.

There was a neat bed. It looked slept in.

Voldemort tensed, one word in his head.

Orphanage.

He looked down at his clothes. He was wearing pure white, just-out-of-the-laundry robes. He scowled at them and they turned black again. Much better.

"Hello, Tom."

He whirled around and saw a man on the messy bed. He wasn't there before. "_Avada Kedavra_!"

His wand did nothing. He tried again. Still nothing.

The man looked up from his half-moon spectacles. "Magic doesn't work here, Tom."

Questions began firing out of his mouth. "Who are you? How come? Where is here? Don't call me Tom."

The old man chuckled. "I thought you'd recognize my face," he said, gesturing at his light blue robes.

Voldemort's breathing quickened. "Dumbledore?"

"Correct. I'm not actually Dumbledore. It's just the body that your mind substituted for me. This," he glanced down. "Is just a manifestation."

"Oh, then what are you?" Voldemort said. "If you're just a 'manifestation'?" Saracasm dripped from his words.

Dumbledore smiled. His teeth were crooked. His wrinkles were creased. "I'm your worst enemy, Tom. I'm Death."

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

**Hiya! If you're reading this, then congratulations! You've finished the first chapter of Fighting Death! Someone bring out the champagne!**

**Okay, never mind, I'm underage anyway.**

**So, Voldemort is a bit OOC, but no one can make excellent quotes all the time like, "Harry Potter. The Boy who Lived..." Dramatic breath. "Come to die." And we don't know how he acts like outside of Harry Potter's glasses. He may be funky. He may make cute comments about ponies. He may be Team Jacob. So I'm giving him a bit of a troubled-and-depressed-man-with-insane-actions angle. And no one can be all evil, just as Harry Potter can't be truly good. (Hello? He pushed Ginny so she could break up with Dean.)**

**This will be a short multi-chap on how Voldemort made the seventh Horcrux.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:**

**ATTENTION! This Fic is officially up for adoption! I have the whole story figured out, but this creeps me out so much, I can't keep on writing. Anyone who wants to continue it PM me. I can tell you my storyline if you want.**

**I'm so sorry. I'm scared to death by my own imagination.**

**If you don't understand, read this chapter. I'm hyperventilating right now. I'm such a scaredy-cat. This is just so spooky.**

**Sorry again.**

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><p>Death? Death didn't look like your grandpa.<p>

Death didn't look kind. Death had a big great sickle thing. Death had a terrifying black robe that covered his skeleton face. Death was merciless. Death was swift.

And yet, here Voldemort is, cowering at the feet of the Hogwart's headmaster.

Somehow, this was way scarier than having a man in a black hooded-robe look at you.

"I don't believe you," he told Death. "Why have you brought me here, Albus?" He spat the name out.

Death looked tired. Collecting souls must be hard. If he was actually Death.

"You're making another Horcrux." Voldemort waited for him to expand. "That's your sixth. No one has ever made more than two."

Voldemort laughed. "I'm a bad guy. I do horrible things."

"I know, Tom."

Voldemort's laugh turned into a sneer. "Don't. Call. Me. Tom. I may be Confounded, Obliviated or Apparated, but I'm still the Dark Lord." He pointed his wand at Death Dumbledore.

Dumbledore looked ruefully at the wand tip. "Didn't I tell you magic didn't work here?"

"You did. What kind of place is this? How do I know I'm not drugged? Where's Bellatrix?"

Dumbledore shrugged. "We are currently deep inside the darkest parts of your mind."

Voldemort sarcastically looked around him. "Really? And the darkest parts of my mind would be a schoolboy's bedroom?"

Dumbledore stood up. Voldemort backed away, and knocked over a wastebasket. The Headmaster walked over to the wardrobe, just like he did when Tom Riddle turned was eleven.

But there was no Tom Riddle here.

Dumbledore lay a wrinkled hand on the brass handle, tentatively, as if deciding whether or not to open it. "Do you remember Dennis Bishop and Amy Benson?"

Voldemort put up his Occumlemency barriers and kept his face blank. Lies shaped his life. "No. I expect some foolish Muggles caught up in magic, Albus?" He made his voice annoyed.

"Are you sure you don't? Remember the cave that you took them near that beach?"

Voldemort's pale palms were getting sweaty. "No. Enough with the vague answers, Albus. Who are they?"

"_Don't you dare lie, Riddle!"_

Dumbledore's voice changed. It was high-pitched. Definitely female. Screechy. Angry. Brings the picture of an angry old lady to your mind with a stick coming to get you. Like the Superintedent in his old orphanage.

For some reason, Voldemort snapped. He just saw red. Who did Dumbledore think he is? "What the bloody hell do you want with me?"

"I don't want anything to do with you. Yet, I am here with you. Odd, how the world works. I like to think I'm going to change your mind, to stop the war. Maybe I'm not. But I have to try."

At the last word, Dumbledore opened the door. Something tumbled out.

Voldemort's anger trickled away into curiosity. There were two things. Bodies. A boy's and a girl's.

Most people would have been grossed out, but Voldemort has seen bodies littering the streets, felt their still-warm blood on his feet.

Voldemort crouched down and used his useless wand to touch the girl's light curled brown hair. She must've been twelve when she died. He moved on to the boy. He briefly rested his hand on his shoulder, before turning him over.

His face was pale, his eyes were closed, his mouth was open in a moan, or possibly the earliest stages of a scream. But he looked so peaceful.

"Dennis?" The name felt familiar, though he had never said the name in any tone but spiteful.

"So you do recognize them."

Voldemort shrugged and flipped the girl over. Her lips were pressed together. "Yeah. I haven't seen these two in ages. Last time I saw them, though, Dennis was fifteen."

He didn't ask how Dumbledore had gotten them or why they were even there.

Dumbledore shook his head. "They died. They died when Dennis was twelve and Amy was nine. When you took them in that cave. They're dead inside."

Voldemort remembered. He stood up. "All I did was create a big cavern," he said smoothly.

Dumbledore looked into his eyes. "You killed them. They were your first kills. I own them now." Dumbledore thrust out a hand and Dennis and Amy's eyes opened. Grey and dead. They start to stand. For some reason, they grew taller and taller, their blank faces menacing. "I can order them to kill you. I can order them to destroy them. I can order them to make you feel what they felt. Not just them. I can make everyone you killed hurt you. James, Lilly, the Longbottoms, Bellatrix. Welcome to your worst nightmare."

This is Death.

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

**My goodness, while writing this, I kept looking backwards to see if anyone was there...**

**By the way, I have no idea why I listed this as a Humor Fic. I intended to put in some dark humor, so yeah.**

**This was also supposed to have some Voldy/Bellatrix in this, for all you shippers, but now...**

**Stupid, scary fic. Sorry it's short.**


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